


The Fall of Clan Lavellan

by mohawke



Series: Out of the Forest & Into the Frying Pan [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Also inserting another Lavellan into Teth's universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Fix-it for the fact that Bioware legit barely acknowledges the loss of Clan Lavellan, Gen, only slightly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 10:32:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5494004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mohawke/pseuds/mohawke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you cope when you've just lost your entire clan?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fall of Clan Lavellan

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so I'm not a fan of the fact that so little is done to acknowledge the loss of Lavellan's clan that occurs if you don't choose the right advisors for the chain. So I took it upon myself to fix that. 
> 
> I also fell in love with Viserys Lavellan (owned by nippaaah over on Tumblr) and kept imagining how she and Teth would interact and I wanted to have her in Teth's story so cue Sera's friends discovering that there was at least one survivor.

“Inquisitor Lavellan! You’re needed in the war room at once.” The messenger is practically sprinting as he rushes to meet her when she walks through the gates.

When she reaches the war room she can immediately tell that something’s not right. Leliana and Josephine keep casting glances at one another and Cullen is rubbing his neck as he stares at the war table, not meeting her eyes.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” She asks, looking from one advisor to the next. The three exchange silent looks with each other. Eventually, it’s Cullen who speaks, clearing his throat before he utters the words.

“Inquisitor, we have word from Wycome.” Cullen looks over at Leliana for a moment before continuing.

“Our forces attempted to reason with the nobles, but they’d been driven mad by the Red Lyrium. They were forced to attack and the city dissolved into chaos. Despite our best efforts, we had no choice but to retreat. Your clan–”

Tethiel can feel her heartbeat racing as she waits to hear confirmation of what she suspects. It can’t be good news, not with the way they are looking at her.

“ _Maker’s breath_. I don’t know how to say this. They turned on clan Lavellan in the wake of our retreat...”

No, there’s no way this is happening. She blinks back tears, clutching the war table to steady herself. “Are there any survivors? They can’t all have–” She can’t bring herself to say the words. If she says it that makes it real.

Cullen shakes his head. “They’ve reported no survivors, I’m sorry.”

They can’t be gone, not all of them. “Anything else?” she asks, voice wavering as she looks down at the war table.

“No, that was all Inquisitor…” Cullen says softly. The room is silent, all three of her advisors hovering nervously on the other side of the war table.

“I need a moment” she whispers.

“Of course, Inquisitor. Take all the time you need. We are truly sorry for your loss” Josephine says, quietly exiting the room with Leliana close behind her. Cullen lingers uncertainly before closing the door behind him.

She can’t hold back the tears any longer, sobs wracking her body as she sinks to the floor. Her keeper, her friends– everyone is dead. The tears fall, hot and angry. She could have prevented this. All of them are gone and it’s her fault. She’d been the one to send forces to try and negotiate. It had seemed like the most sensible option at the time.

She’s uncertain how much time has passed before there’s a knock at the door. She’s long since run out of tears, sitting numbly on the floor with her arms wrapped around her knees. She’s tempted to simply ignore the tentative knock and hope that they’ll walk away but in the end she gives in, opening the door to find Cullen. Her face crumples, a fresh wave of tears beginning to fall as he wraps his arms around her. “It’s my fault, Cullen. They are dead because of _me_.”

She feels his arms tighten around her, pulling her closer. “No, it’s not. There was no way you could have known it would end like this” he says softly, a hand stroking her hair. She buries her face against his shoulder, shaking her head.

“ _I’m_ the one who sent the forces to Wycome. If I hadn’t they would still be alive…” The guilt hits her hard, a twisting knot in her stomach. “I failed them, just like I failed Hawke and the Divine. I’ll probably fail everyone else too. How can I be counted on to stop Corypheus when I couldn’t even protect my clan?”

“It isn’t your fault. If anything, we’re to blame. We should have evaluated the situation, sent a scout or spy to see what was happening before recommending the use of troops. You can’t blame yourself Teth…” he whispers. 

She stands there silently as the sobs begin to fade. All she wants right now is to lock herself in her quarters, away from prying eyes. She’s exhausted, utterly spent after what feels like hours of crying.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Cullen asks. She shakes her head, pulling out of his embrace.

“I just need some time…” she says softly. Cullen nods, a worried frown on his face as he moves aside to let her pass. She makes her way quickly to her quarters, locking the door behind her. With a weary sigh, she changes from her armor and slides under the covers.

She can’t sleep. Her mind is filled with thoughts of her clan as she lies there numbly. What is she supposed to do after this is all over, once Corypheus has fallen? 

The exhaustion finally hits her and she falls into a restless slumber. When she wakes there’s a note by the door, slid under by someone while she was sleeping. 

She can tell it’s from Josephine, written in the ambassador’s elegant script. Tethiel desperately hopes it’s not telling her to come discuss something in the war room. She reads it quickly, letting out a sigh of relief when she sees that it’s simply a note of condolence. Words do little to numb the pain, but at least she’s being excused from the meetings she was supposed to have today.

She doesn’t answer when someone knocks a few hours later. She can hear Dorian calling her name, the sound muffled by the door. She doesn’t have the energy to get up, let alone have visitors.

Another day passes before she finally gives in and forces herself to get up and dressed. There’s a loud knock on her door, too loud to ignore this time. Tethiel sighs loudly as she pads over to open it, finding Sera waiting before her.

“Sera, I really don’t want– “ her words trail off into a gasp. There’s no way this is really happening. They are all dead, no survivors.

“ _Friends_ , Inquisitor.” she says as if that explains everything.

“ _How_ – never mind. I don’t care how, just please tell me I’m not dreaming right now” she says quietly as she looks at the elf before her. She reaches out, certain that she’ll vanish under her touch. When she doesn’t, Tethiel bites back a sob of relief as she pulls the other Dalish elf into her arms. “Viserys...you’re alive,” she stammers in disbelief, tears welling up in her eyes as she hugs her tightly.

Viserys winces slightly, letting out a soft hiss at the pain. Tethiel pulls back to look at her. She’s been injured but she’s _alive_. As much as it pains her to not have answers right away, she knows that her friend needs to see a healer first. She quickly pulls on her boots over her leggings and sets off for the healer with Viserys trailing behind her. 

She made it.


End file.
